Scenes of a Mature Nature
by justmindy
Summary: The Watsons and the Holmeses are all happily married. What's a little sex among friends? The evolution of a polyamorous relationship, told through scenes.
1. A Midsummer Nights Wet Dream

_Author's Note: _

_This story will not have a plot, merely suggest one. The idea is that these four amazing creatures are discovering that love doesn't always come in 2X2 boxes. I plan to devote at least one scene per combination (and already have a few planned out). Don't worry, I'll post the partners before each chapter so you can skip one you don't particularly like._

_As an introductory chapter, this will be longer than most and have more pairings. You'll see:_

_Mary/Molly_

_Sherlock/John/Mary/Molly_

_John/Molly_

_Sherlock/Mary &amp;_

_Sherlock/Molly/Mary_

_**ssssssssssss**_

"I can't help but be worried," Molly Holmes said as she bit her lip and nervously gripped her poplin skirt, "the case should have been finished ages ago." She refilled her glass of wine, if only to have something to do with her hands.

They had been planning this dinner party for weeks. It was John and Mary Watson's second anniversary, and they wanted to celebrate as adults. Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to take Isabelle for the evening, but John and Sherlock were still out on a case that came in the day before. No doubt they would saunter in scruffed up and bruised.

Mary let out a soft laugh, "Oh let them have their fun, Molly. With Izzy walking now, and you and Sherlock still in your honeymoon period," with this she winked, making Molly blush, "they haven't had much time for adventure. Besides," she moved closer on the couch, "this gives us some much needed time for girl talk. So tell me, how's the sex?" she asked, nose crinkling up.

Molly laughed lightly._. _"Oh, the sex, well, uh - "

"I never believed any of those articles from Janine, she could always make up a good story, but you know the truth of it and I've often watched him and wondered." She looked over at her friend, watching her with mouth agape. "Oh please, you know as well as anyone he cuts a nice figure in those designer suits, I can't help but look. You mean to tell me you don't fantasize about other men?" Molly's eyes widened, and she looked away quickly, but Mary noticed a sly smile. "Oh, you have, haven't you? Who?" she shook her head. "You know you have to tell me, now that you have my curiosity peaked."

Molly finished her fourth glass in one gulp, then refilled from a fast emptying second bottle of red. She paused, then took another gulp. With the half empty glass in her hand, she finally turned to Mary, "You asked about our sex life? Well, lately we've been - " a hesitation, " - fantasizing a lot. About John, and about you."

Mary sat, her turn to be gobsmacked and speechless.

"I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry, I'll just - " Molly put her glass back on the table and stood up, "I'll just go. Don't worry, I'll text Sherlock and tell him to come home to 221B. It's late anyway, I should be getting - " before she could grab her coat from the hallway, Mary took hold of her arm, twirling Molly around to face her. Their gazes met briefly before Mary's lowered to her mouth and Molly knew it was coming a moment before their lips met.

It was just a soft brushing, at first, but soon Molly's lips were pushing at Mary's mouth to open a little, and as their heads tilted to deepen the kiss, Mary gently caressed Molly's sides.

Their lips broke apart, "Have you ever done anything like this before?" Molly shook her head.

"I kissed a girl once, in uni, but she wasn't - she didn't see me the same way," she moved further into Mary's embrace, "Have you?"

She just nodded, kissing her again; this time, as their tongues brushed against each other, they both moaned. When Mary pulled their bodies flush together, Molly brought her hand up to stroke Mary's heart-shaped face, and then further into her cropped blonde hair, slightly pulling as the embrace turned passionate. Her other hand rose up, slightly brushing Mary's nipple before cupping her full breast and slightly pinching the hardened nub she found. She felt a surge of pride as Mary gasped against her mouth, nudging Molly closer to the wall until she felt her back hit the wood panelling.

Finally breaking the kiss, Mary braced Molly's wrists above her head, against the wall, and began nuzzling, sucking on the pulse point at the base of her neck and flicking the sensitive area behind her right ear. Instinctively, Molly brought her left leg up, brushing Mary's hip with her knee, and gave a euphoric "Please.".

"Oh, you like that, do you? Naughty," she said, bringing the fingers of her right hand to Molly's lips, "That's right, make them nice and wet, good girl." When she was satisfied, she replaced the digits with her searing lips while she trailed the hand up the inside of Molly's thigh, stopping when she didn't find the expected cotton barrier.

"We never seem to make it home before…" Molly found herself blushing, "...it just makes it easier in the taxi if I don't…" she looked down, slightly embarrassed.

Mary released her wrists to cup her cheek, bringing them eye to eye again, "I think it's sexy, and what's more," she started, kissing the corners of her lips before renewing her attentions between Molly's thighs, "I like how wet you are for me," she moved her lips back to Molly's ear, "You didn't need to lick my fingers at all, did you? You're positively dripping," she purred as she slid her fingers between Molly's lips, teasing before finally pushing in, using her thumb to circle her clit.

Molly's eyes rolled back as she once again tangled her fingers into her friend's hair, holding on as Mary continued to whisper dirty things, her hot breath brushing over the erogenous point just above the shell of her ear. Her fingers, more delicate than a man's, kept a steady rhythm that Molly's hips echoed, undulating against Mary's thigh. She could no longer distinguish the words, but Mary's urgings pushed her on until she reached that point and she was gasping her release into her lover's mouth.

Mary pulled away, resting her forehead against the younger woman's, panting. Then she laughed, "That was…"

"...brilliant. Mary?"

"Yes?"

"Is it my turn now?"

"God, yes," and with that, Mary grabbed Molly's hand and pulled her into the master suite.

_**ssssssssssss**_

John jumped out of the taxi, leaving Sherlock to pick up the fare this time.

"Oh, the missus will not be pleased,"

Sherlock Holmes didn't mention that taking the case was all Mrs. Watson's idea in the first place. "Well, we're here now. Come along, John."

Walking into the quiet living room, the crime fighting duo were immediately concerned. An opened wine bottle, almost done but not quite, and two glasses of varying fullness were still on the otherwise empty table.

Sherlock almost gave into the panic that was already set into John's face before he heard the soft moan coming from the back of the flat.

"Where are they - oh my God, Sherlock, did someone take them? Where's my g-" John stopped, angling his ear.

Sherlock put his finger to his lips and pointed to the drawer of John's secretary, then beckoned with his fingers. _Be quiet, gun is in the secretary desk, follow my lead._

"Mmm, Christ!" The moaning was getting louder as they stalked closer to the bedroom door. "Molly, yes."

Sharing a brief look of confusion and a nod from John to continue, Sherlock nudged the door open slightly with the toe of his shoe. There, on the bed, were their wives in a compromising position.

Sherlock didn't know how long he stared before John, having finally recognized the sounds of his wife in the throes of passion, nudged him aside to open the door wider. Molly was too busy to notice the intrusion; she was on her back, legs spread wide with her right knee slightly bent, her arousal evident and shiny on her inner thighs. Her arms were wrapped around Mary's bent legs, hands splayed over her hips. All Sherlock saw of her face were Mary's juices, mixed with Molly's saliva, running down her chin, as the rest of it was firmly planted in Mary's…

_Ahem._

Sherlock and Molly had certainly talked - at length - about their fantasies involving the Watsons, but neither thought the opportunity would arise to fulfill them. Mrs. Watson appeared amenable to the new arrangement. Bent backwards, her arms were braced behind her on the bed, hands on either side of Molly's head. The position thrust her chest out, putting her breasts on display. Sherlock had watched Mary's bust grow during her pregnancy in appreciation, and he was glad to see she hadn't lost all of it. It was one of his favorite physical traits about her; now he saw the soft pink of her areolas, the hardness of her nipples, begging to be pinched and licked.

John, having recovered from the shock faster, pushed smoothly past him, reengaged the safety before putting his gun on the dresser, then tore off his jacket as he approached his wife, taking her weight off her arms and into his, kissing her deeply. His fingers pulled at her straining nipples.

"No, don't stop," Mary breathed as Molly began to pull away, "Please. Please keep going - oh," her moans getting louder as the good doctor bent to suckle on her breast. 

Blue eyes pierced his and Sherlock found himself moving toward her beckoning arm; he was climbing onto the bed, on his knees, to take Mary's other breast in his mouth, cupping the fullness in his hand and flicking the tip with his tongue. He looked into her eyes as she violently shuddered in their arms, cumming beautifully.

Mary, as delicately as one could in the situation, leaned back so Molly could disentangle herself from between her thighs. Sitting up, naked and beautiful and flushed, she looked at John, then Sherlock, and he could see the trepidation in the eyes of the woman he'd chosen to spend the rest of his life with.

Before Molly could say anything, Sherlock pulled her close, tasting the tangy musk of Mary's sex as he kissed her hard.

_**ssssssssssss**_

John Watson took in a breath of air. It wasn't half a gulp, to be honest.

Sherlock was kissing his wife in his bed.

Correction: He was licking Molly Holmes' face in his marital bed.

His best friend, Sherlock Holmes, was licking Mary Watson's juices off Molly's chin. In John's bed.

Dr. John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, was incredibly turned on.

He turned toward Mary, sated for now, and smiled fondly at her crinkled nose. Then her head tilted toward Molly, silently telling him to get on with it.

She knew about his little Molly fantasy, and they'd spent a few fun nights whispering beneath sheets about this very possibility, but John never thought it would happen.

He turned back to his friends, who were now having their own nonverbal conversation. Someone needed to take charge of the situation, and who better than -

"Right then," Mary sat up, sidled next to the brunette, and whispered into her ear. Molly nodded, biting her lip, and kissed his wife deeply before approaching him.

She picked up his hand and gently caressed the rough pads of his fingers, then brought them to her lips and sucked them past her soft lips and into her warm mouth. It wasn't until she brought his hand down to cup her breast that he was able to move.

With a groan, he pulled her closer, grabbing her ass and claiming her in a hard kiss. Behind her, John could hear that deep voice explaining exactly what he was going to do to his Mary, and he knew this bed was about to get very full.

John led Molly to the small settee next to the window, sitting down first, then pulling her down onto his lap with both hands squeezing the cheeks he'd admired from afar.

In this position, they could both see Mary kissing Sherlock's throat as she unbuttoned him, his jacket already discarded and crumpled on the floor. Molly's thighs clenched around John's hips, and her hands fumbled with his belt as she ground against him. His cock hardened even more in appreciation.

He turned to his best friend's wife, seeing her in a way he had only imagined before. When she finally freed him, grasping his shaft with her small capable hands, he closed his eyes with a pleasurable sigh. With a swirl of her thumb against his tip, she was using his natural lubricant as she lightly sped up her ministrations.

"Talk to me. Tell me what they're doing, Molly. What do you see?" His calloused hands found hips and gripped them tight.

"M-Mary, she's rubbing Sherlock through his trousers," she stuttered, obviously as affected as he, "He's touching her -" she faltered again, turning her face into his, brushing her nose against his cheek.

"Here?" John asked, bringing his hand up to rub between her folds.

"Yes," a breath against his temple.

John pushed her hand away from his groin, pulling Molly forward to rub the delicious wetness he found between her legs directly against his cock. She mewed.

"Oh, she must've found the spot on Sherlock's neck - he just toppled her," she pulled back slightly, then gently lowered herself onto his cock, "he's fucking her," Molly half-growled as she seated herself fully, then began slowly rocking.

Christ she felt good. Her warm heat surrounded him and he opened his eyes to see her head thrown back, the tips of her hair brushing his thighs. She had one hand on his knee and the other around his neck, her lips parted as she silently and unabashedly took her pleasure.

"Molly. Molly look at me," clouded brown eyes opened to him. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist as she wrapped hers around his shoulders, and used the new position to begin thrusting into her. "I've wanted you for a while now," her gaze finally focused on his and he groaned when she squeezed around him.

"So have I. Wanted you, that is," she stopped, using the inner muscles of her pussy to massage his cock.

"You came in to the lab once," she continued, stomach quivering under his touch as he positioned his fingers to massage her clit, "some boring afternoon, looking for Sherlock. I'd dropped my favorite pen, and you came up behind me -" her breathing sped up and she began to move her hips again.

"You thought you were alone, you didn't think anyone would see you," she blushed, "oh, I remember."

He started thrusting again, moving to the languid rhythm Molly had set for them. "You were stretching to reach it, far under the table, and I could see the tops of the stockings and just a hint of pink cotton." In reality, at that point, he'd coughed to announce his presence and she pulled back quickly, blushing and pulling her skirt down. He wanted her then but he was with Jeanette and he knew Molly loved Sherlock - and he knew Sherlock was greatly attached to Molly. "I wanted to taste you so badly." She kissed him.

John broke away, then leaned forward to lick the sweat from her collarbone, becoming lost in the sensation of Molly, all around him, and sped up his thrusts. She leaned in, whispering frantically in his ear.

"He's flipped her over now, rutting her like an animal, squeezing her nipples. I wanted you to take me like that, that day. I wanted you between my legs, thrusting in from behind."

"Did you want me to pull your hair?" he reached up, bunching the strands in his fingers, and tugged. "Did you want me to ride you?"

"Yes, God, yes. I can hear her cumming." she shuddered and lowered her voice even more. "I can still taste her cumming."

"Oh fuck, Molly, cum. For me, luv." he was going to cum, he could feel it. He brought his fingers back up to her clit, but this time it was just the right amount of pressure before she was crying out above him, milking his orgasm from him, collapsing in his arms.

_**ssssssssssss**_

Mary gripped the duvet beneath her hands. Her gasps turned into moans turned into soft cries and Sherlock could tell her orgasm was fast approaching. To his left, his wife was building up to her release, and he sped up his thrusts to match her movements. Everything slowed down as he focused on John's hands, clenching and unclenching his hold on Molly's hips.

Then it sped up, impossibly fast as the smell of sex all around him assaulted his olfactory senses and the moans and gasps and curses were booming in his ears.

He closed his eyes to the onslaught, thrusting hard into Mary's warm heat, holding himself there, collecting his bearings.

_Ssssh. Focus. There. That's better._ Irene's voice, the memory of a sculpted fingernail down his cheek.

"Sherlock, darling, please. Move, please," Mary's voice reached him, her hips rotating against his pelvis, her arm reaching back to grasp his thigh.

He looked down at her, on her knees and prone for him, before sliding his hands up her creamy back, bending over to feel it against his chest, finally reaching around to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples, the way he'd already discovered she liked, and began thrusting.

This time, her hips met his with every push, give and take and he focused on the rhythm, and the smell of her hair and the weight in his hands and her soft gasps and he could feel it, the sensation in his scrotum that signalled his release, but then she came around him and the pulses and her cries and John and Molly behind him and it was just too much. Sherlock pulled out, resting his forehead between Mary's shoulder blades, panting. He was still half-hard, unsatisfied.

Mary softly collapsed under his weight, landing skillfully with their bodies positioned on their sides, but he extricated himself from her embrace, agitated and embarrassed.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?"

Across the room, Molly sat up from John's post-coital embrace, "Everything all right, mate?" His friend turned a concerned look to him. They were all talking and asking and they always do that and why is it so loud? Behind their voices he could hear a car alarm down the street - he began pacing, furiously grabbing his hair - and a dog barking in the park, on a stroll with their owner, probably just being used as an excuse for a midnight assignation with a lover and CAN I GET A BIT OF -

"Ssssh, Sherlock, it's okay." Molly stood in front of him now; had he said all that out loud? "It's a lot to take in, yea? Let me help," she trailed her lips down his chest as she positioned herself on her knees. Her soft hands reached out, grabbing his penis with a slight squeeze before leaning forward to take him into her mouth.

She moaned around him, her tongue coming out to taste him, taste him and Mary and did she taste like John and it was too much, too much and he gently pushed off, retreating a step, hoping she could read the apology in his eyes before he braced himself against the wall trying to recover his senses.

He heard movement behind him, then Mary, in a decisive voice, "Sherlock, look at me." He shook his head. It was too much.

"Look at me, Sherlock, listen to my voice and look at me."

He turned, but was halted before he could admonish her. She had positioned herself behind Molly, both women on their knees, and was deftly, lightly, fingering Molly's nipples. He turned his head to John, but "No, here. Look at me, look at your wife. She's beautiful," at this, she began rubbing with the palm of her hand, Molly laying her head onto Mary's shoulder with a sigh, "and so responsive. Sherlock, I want you to stroke yourself."

He started to fight it, but noticed he had been holding his penis, and with Mary's command, was becoming excited again. He squeezed gently as he started to masturbate himself.

"Good, that's right." She kissed Molly's neck, then moved one hand between her legs. "So ripe, so ready. I bet you love playing with your wife. Have you kissed every inch of her skin yet? So sweet," watching his pathologist on display, concentrating on Mary's voice and ministrations, and Sherlock was once again close to orgasm.

"She has magnificent tits, don't you think? Do you want to cum on them," she asked coolly, making Molly gasp, rocking against Mary's hand jutting her small, but ample, chest out further in invitation. All he could do was nod as he positioned himself over his supple wife. He felt the tingling again, at the base of his cock, and he sped up his tempo. He gasped loudly, the orgasm powerful, and fell forward slightly as he watched his ejaculate spray all over her chest. Sherlock fell back onto the bed when he finished, unable to stay on his feet, releasing the clutch he had on Molly's hair.

He sat, catching his breath, and watched Mary turn Molly in her arms, and lick his efforts off her breasts, paying extra attention to the nipples, tugging with her teeth as she efficiently brought Molly off, one last time, finishing with a sloppy kiss.

They embraced, breathless, affectionately brushing noses and cheeks, and quietly giggling. Sherlock smiled with them.

"Well, I don't know about you three, but I could use a drink," John said, sprawled out on the settee. This time, they all shared in the laughter.


	2. Love's Labours Won

**_Hey guys! Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter. _**

**_This baby is (almost) pure Sherlolly, and later that night. These are the only two chapters that are this connected. Everything else, while within the same story and universe, won't be connected plots - just like pages in a scrapbook._**

**_Enjoy!_**

* * *

"_Dr. Watson, are you trying to seduce me?"_

"_Why, Nurse Mary, I believe I am."_

Molly caught Sherlock rolling his eyes at the muffled giggles they heard through the thin walls of the modest guest bedroom. "I think it's cute," she playfully admonished. Both tired and a little unwilling to return to Baker Street after the exhaustive sex they'd had with their best friends, they were staying with the Watsons that night.

Her husband unashamedly on his knees, nude, ear against the wall, Molly smiled affectionately and hiked her borrowed night shirt before climbing into the bed herself. Thankfully there had been only one slightly awkward conversation that followed the evening's activities. She and Sherlock only ever used condoms due to a side effect of the pill, and neither had used one in the excitement. Fortunately, Mary was on the pill to regulate her cycle, and since that hadn't stopped Isabelle, John had a vasectomy a few months prior. In the end, they parted more than friends, though what that meant for their future, Molly wasn't sure.

The giggles had become the familiar moans of Mary's impending orgasm and Molly rubbed her thighs together, her arousal becoming evident as she felt it slicking her thighs. She turned her head toward Sherlock's groan and he was no longer listening at the wall. Sharp blue eyes focused intently on her, his prominent erection thrusting out from a thatch of ginger curls in heady anticipation.

"I love your smell," he began, positioning himself to hover over her. "The first time I tasted you, I sorted the smell of your desire in a folder I keep at the front of my mind palace. Every time you're turned on, I know immediately. Instantly." He lowered himself and sniffed at her neck before licking possessively. Molly shuddered, drawing in a quick breath as her pulse increased.

"Our olfactory sense is a funny thing, Sherlock" she started, knowing how he liked it when she lectured, "It links directly to our emotions in our amygdala and the memories in our hippocampus. That's why smells can bring such nostalgic memories to the forefront of our minds."

"Ah, Mrs. Holmes," he whispered in her ear, "you are being a very naughty girl right now." He took her lips hard, his hands squeezing her arse and his pelvis grinding into the vee of her legs. Molly moaned, teeth clashing before Sherlock pulled away, pushing her onto her side and positioning himself to cradle her from behind.

"Sherlock - you know we can't," she hesitated, just as he crossed his arms across her chest, cupping underneath her breasts and brushing her nipples, "Sherlock! Stop."

He halted, pulling away slightly, "This isn't okay?" His voice was sincere and a little worried, so she turned halfway to stroke his cheek.

"It's just - we don't have any protection…"

"Molly, my Molly…" he nuzzled her gently, "...I know." He renewed his efforts, his caresses.

"Sherlock - " she started again, but was stopped by a particularly adventurous finger between her cheeks, eventually spreading them, "Sher- Sherlock, do you want children?" she finally breathed.

"Yes," he answered hungrily, edgiing inside her from behind, "I want to see you pregnant with my baby," he growled into her ear as he entered her slowly, once again cupping her chest. "I want to see your breasts heavy with it." He suddenly stopped, fully seated within her, "And yes, I want to have children with you Molly. I want to start a family with the woman I love."

"Oh," Molly started, speechless with the gravity of the moment. Then he started moving again.

"Do you remember the first time I took you like this?" He began, one hand clenching her hipbone, the other teasing her nipple.

"Monaco," she breathed, then moaned deeply. Their honeymoon.

He rewarded her with a nibble on her shoulder as he rocked harder, picking up the pace only slightly, "Yes. We'd spent the afternoon in the market. I watched you, flitting from stall to stall, soaking in the warmth like a sunflower in spring." He paused again. "I wanted you more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life."

Molly turned her head, and with her hand in his hair, took his lips firmly. He was moving again before the kiss ended. Speeding up, Sherlock's hands renewed their efforts. She loved the way he felt inside her; hard and rigid, he brushed against parts of her she could never reach, causing her to cry out as her orgasm built deep in her stomach.

"I love the way you smell when you're about to cum," he panted, close to orgasm himself. "Sweet and musky at the same time. Cum for me Molly. I need you to cum now," he begged. It was only a few more thrusts before she obliged, screaming into her pillow, pulling Sherlock's hair as she clenched around his cock.

"That's right, yes, I want to cum inside you Molly. Can I?" She could tell he was holding back, but his restraint wouldn't last long.

"Yes, Sherlock cum in me please," he sped up again, clenching her hip even tighter - she was going to have bruises in the morning but she didn't care. Soon he was gasping in her ear, and Molly felt her husband's ejaculate running down her thigh, mixing with the sweat accumulated between their bodies.

As he inevitably softened and fell out, Sherlock pulled Molly closer, nuzzling her neck again. Soon they were both quietly chuckling as the adrenaline wore off. "That was amazing."

"Yes I was," he answered confidently, biting her ear. He pushed her onto her back, looking down into her eyes, all seriousness again, "Are you sure this is okay?"

"Well it's a little late now, Sherlock -" she started with a laugh.

"Don't make jokes, Molly." She sobered to match him.

"Yes, I'm sure. I think you'll make a great father. I can't wait to have your babies."

Sherlock Holmes smiled widely at his wife, kissing Molly happily.


	3. The Merry Wives of 221B

_Has it really been a year? Sorry guys. I just wanted to do this one right. This one is __**Molly/Mary femmeslash**__.__There's also foreshadowing for the next chapter._

_Again, thank you everyone for your kudos and comments and sticking with me. Next will be a John/Mary chapter, then John/Sherlock following that. _

_**Chapter 3, The Merry Wives of 221B**__: Molly and Mary go shopping together._

* * *

The bell above the door rang as they entered the small, hidden shop in Soho.

"...and I appreciate it. I really do! But I've always enjoyed both parts of…" Molly lowered her voice conspiratorially, leaning towards Mary, "...sex. The receiving _and_ the giving. And ever since I started showing," she patted her stomach, four months large with child, "all Sherlock wants to do lately is give."

Mary giggled, "What a horrible problem you have," she teased, rolling her eyes, "and I don't think we need to keep our voices down here, love." she said, gesturing to the risque clothing, lingerie, and various sexual accoutrement. The girl behind the counter popped her gum in disinterest.

"Right. What is it, exactly, that you're looking for," Molly asked over her shoulder as she approached the nearest set of brightly coloured and barely-there underthings.

"Something red and lacy. Something crotchless," Mary couldn't fight her smile, "John was very specific."

"Indeed. Sherlock appreciated yesterday's Brazilian wax," she turned towards the closest rack, "Let's see," the hangers scraped against metal as Molly rifled through clothing, "leopard print, polka dots. Oh, here's red lace, but it's a G-string. Are you sure that won't work?"

Mary flushed with memory. Her husband knew exactly what he wanted her to wear in their little role-playing game. Red lace was a personal preference of his; he'd said just the thought of the sinful colour against her creamy skin got him hard. And crotchless panties, John said, would give him quick access so they could shag in the back of the seedy night club they'd picked out last week. Mary became aroused at the thought - the rhythmic beats of the club music, the smell of sex in the air, other people watching them, touching themselves, maybe grabbing a partner to join in...

"Oh, my," the sudden and breathy words pulled Mary out of her fog, "what are _you_ thinking about?"

Her best friend was staring at her, a familiar glint in her eyes, her smile slightly parted. Although they were standing on opposite sides of the rack, she could see the glow of moisture on Molly's coral lips; she must have wetted them with her tongue.

The flush of arousal returned, and Mary could feel her nipples hardening against the cotton of her bra.

Grabbing a small slip of fabric masquerading as a skirt, Molly called out, "We'll just try this on," before pulling Mary towards the back.

"Uh-huh," was the dull reply, followed by the turn of a magazine page.

Then she was pushed into a small changing closet and up against the wall. Before she could get even a syllable of protest out, Molly was kissing her. And suddenly she didn't want to protest anymore.

Molly's lips were soft. They were always soft. Like petals against her mouth, her cheeks, her neck. Mary could kiss her all day and get lost in the smell of her hair and drown in her femininity. And these past few months, morning sickness aside, she'd been glowing with it. It's no wonder Sherlock couldn't resist her. Mary wanted to taste her, too, but it was clear Molly had other plans.

Her rounded stomach only slightly noticeable and therefore not entirely cumbersome, Molly easily lowered herself to her knees, deftly unbuttoning Mary's blouse along the way.

"Molly, we can't," she whispered, although her heart wasn't in it. She was just too beautiful there, kneeling before her, looking up at Mary as if she were some divine gift, ready to be worshipped. She leaned forward in response, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her belly as she slowly unbuttoned and unzipped Mary's jeans.

"No, you were right. She won't notice - she doesn't care," she stopped, looking up with pleading brown eyes, "Please."

Mary could do nothing but nod, and with a wicked grin, Molly pulled her jeans and knickers down and off one leg.

Calloused hands moved over her calves, massaging the flesh. They moved up to her thighs, parting them with the slightest pressure, squeezing as Molly rocked forward, teasingly tasting the skin with her tongue.

She moaned before lifting Mary's unclothed leg, placing her foot on the wooden built-in bench. With a wicked gleam, Molly leaned upward, teasing the outer folds of her bare sex; first with the tip of her nose, then with her tongue. Mary felt herself breathing faster in anticipation.

Her head fell back against the wall as her lover's tongue started making broad strokes, and Mary let loose a moan, then a groan as Molly stopped completely, pulling away.

"Uh-uh-uh," she quietly chastened, "no noises! We don't want to be caught, now do we," she asked with a devilish look in her eyes, "So everytime you make a noise, I'll stop."

Mary glared, but only briefly as Molly started in again, caressing her sensitive walls with her tongue, slowly torturing with her mouth.

She felt her own hands go to her still covered breasts, gently squeezing as Molly sped up, circling her vulva and nuzzling her clit with her nose. She started fucking Mary with a finger, then focused her tongue's attention to her clit, flicking it before taking it into her mouth to suck. Mary gasped, and Molly once again pulled away.

"Naughty girl," she cooed, caressing her lips with her fingers to keep Mary primed, "ready to try again?"

Mary bit her lip and nodded furiously. Molly started slowly again, but, unable to hide her eagerness, quickly reestablished the rhythm of her finger. Mary's hands delved under her bra, fondling and pinching her nipples.

Soon a second finger was added, and Molly was using her thumb and her tongue on Mary's clit, pulsing in and out with her fingers, and Mary knew she wasn't going to last much longer. She tried to moderate her breathing, wanting to stretch it out, but then she glanced in the mirror - Molly's head was bobbing between her legs. The erotic sight pushed her over the edge, and Mary yelled into her hand, riding Molly's face as she came.

When she came down, Molly was still there, embracing Mary around her middle, rubbing her skin with a smile, "Thank you," she breathed, "you're spectacular."

Mary blushed, "I really don't think you should be thanking me, but you're welcome," she traced her fingers over Molly's face and grinned, "Well, that's something I haven't done before. Wish we could clean up a bit."

"Oh," Molly grabbed her purse, pulling out a flannel, "I've been carrying this around lately - you never know when you might need a bit of a refresher. And I think… yes, here's a water bottle!"

They quickly performed their ablutions, then redressed and straightened their clothing and hair. When they exited, the shop girl made no indication she noticed they were in the booth a long time for one skirt, and they breathed a sigh of relief.

That's when Mary spotted them, right outside the door. "Look! Red, lacy, crotchless. Perfect."

When they got to the front, Molly nervously placed the two items on the counter, "This will be all."

The shop clerk stood silently with a blank look, smacking her gum.

"The skirt - you know the one we tried on? - fit her perfectly."

_Pop._

"That's all we were doing back there, after all," _smack_, "trying on clothes, and we found the perfect skirt, so thank you."

"Sure," was the only response given.

Molly was adorable when she was awkward and flustered, but Mary put her out of her misery and handed over her credit card to pay. Soon they were back on the street, arm and arm.

"Promise you'll email and tell me everything about your 'date'," Molly said on the escalator down into the London Underground station, "I'll be living vicariously through you. When are you going again?"

"This Friday, and of course, sweeting. Everything."

As Mary watched the northbound train to Baker Street pull away, she decided not to email the details to her. _No_, she thought with a wicked grin, _I'll tell her in person._


	4. Tony & Cleo

AN: As always, tysvm to my beta, not only for looking over all my stuff, but also being there for so much hand holding. I don't know how I'd do this without you.

* * *

John had to slip the door supervisor fifty pounds to get inside the warehouse party. The walls of the old East End industrial building were practically pulsing with energy, and the dingy windows were highlighted from within by colourful moving lasers. Once inside, he watched the lights on the walls of the corridor dance to the beat of the music he felt beneath his feet.

He turned the corner and found the venue packed with sweaty bodies grinding against each other, moving in a synchronized rhythm. In the center, a DJ towered over the dance floor, spinning their magic, a siren song, and surrounded by their enchanted devotees.

He found Mary sitting at one of the bars situated against the outer walls of the club, sipping her usual old fashioned. Perched on the stool, her short skirt rode scandalously high, the pale skin of her thigh beckoning John from across the room.

Her eyes were down, the corner of her mouth turned up slightly, and John knew she'd already made him. Probably as he walked into the room - she had lethal instincts. He grew hard at the thought and pulled at the unforgiving leather of his trousers to adjust.

When he reached the bar, several stools down from his wife, he ordered a scotch and drank it before ordering a second. By the time he turned towards her, she was shaking someone off. "No thank you," her full lips read, "I'm not alone." John waited for the other woman to leave before approaching.

"Hi," he started, running his knuckles down Mary's arm, stopping at her elbow so he could grasp her side. "I'm Tony," he slipped his hand into the side of her backless red halter top, grazing her breast; she shuddered. "Did you sit in a pile of sugar?" he said in his deepest timbre, now running his hand across her back, " 'Cause you have a pretty sweet ass." He squeezed her denim clad rear with a barely concealed smirk.

Mary gave her broad smile, the one that made his heart jump, and turned to him on the chair, pulling him into the vee of her legs. "I'm Cleo," she purred, her hands exploring the front of his trousers, "and if you were a vegetable," she grabbed him through his zip, "you'd be a cute-cumber," she finished with a cheeky grin, and he laughed at the cheesy game they were playing.

John lowered his mouth to her neck, pulling her closer to grind against his erection, "Your body is sixty-five percent water," he sucked gently on her collarbone as she moaned softly, "and I'm thirsty."

Mary pulled back and licked her bright red lips. "Drink up." And then he kissed her. Her small hands dug into his sides, scratching through the mesh, and he bit her lip. Soon, she was pulling him toward a nearby stairwell leading to the overseer's office.

Two-thirds of the way up the metal stairway, in a partially-lit corner, John stopped when he saw movement. The man there was strikingly beautiful, with light brown skin and sharp cheekbones and lips parted just so. His head was thrown back against the brick, his hand tangled in the platinum blond locks of another man kneeling between his legs. The man held his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from moaning, and when he opened his eyes, his cloudy gaze locked with John's curious one.

"Isn't he sexy," Mary breathed in his ear, her body flush against his side, her hands teasing his prick, "just watch him move."

The muscles of the stranger's exposed stomach flexed as he moved in and out of his lover's mouth, and he picked up speed as John watched; he felt himself harden further, now imagining a masculine mouth around his cock. The man kept his eyes open as he came with a cry and one final thrust, gripping the other man close. John pulled Mary the rest of the way up the stairs, the two men kissing passionately behind them.

There was more security at the door to the office, but Mary and another fifty quid got them in. The windowed walls were draped with dark curtains, and black leather couches sat along the perimeter of the room. Tables with glass bowls of condoms and bottles of lubricant were scattered throughout. Several mattresses were on the floor with sheer curtains hanging from the ceiling and framing all the players in various undress, fucking and gasping in sinful harmony.

Mary pushed John onto an empty loveseat, but brushed off his attempts to pull her after him. She turned her back, spread her legs, and dropped low into a crouch. She came up slowly, and John could see her hands caressing her legs, up her slim calves and to her muscled thighs, where she pulled her miniskirt just high enough that he could see the bottom of her cheeks and the edge of red lace. Her arms crossed in front of her stomach and she bent at the waist, pulling on her cheeks to show the knickers were crotchless, just as he'd requested. He started, once again reaching for her, but she pulled up suddenly and shook her finger, "No Sir! I'm not through with you, yet."

Then, she winked.

The world around them blurred; Mary was all John could see. Her hips swayed to an unknown beat as she came closer, her hands never still on her body. A halo of light outlined her as she fondled her chest. When she moved up her neck to unsnap the halter top, she put a familiar red shoe between his legs. The three-inch heels and bows at her ankles made her legs look impossibly long.

"I'm sorry for all the bad things I said about these shoes. They're my new best friends," he stroked the suede reverently and grinned up at her, his world. "They were worth every pound."

Mary smirked knowingly, pulling down her top as her hips danced to the rhythm of the room, "They forgive you." Full breasts now bared, she pulled down the zip of her skirt, exposing a little triangle of red lace. She turned around again and pulled the denim down over her hips, slowly revealing the lace-up ribbon tying her thong together in the back, before pushing the skirt to the floor. John grabbed her hips, pulling her toward his face, and kissed her lingerie covered cheeks, breathing in the scent of her arousal. He gently bent her further at the waist and licked into her cunt. Her body moved against his mouth, but she only allowed him a few strokes before pulling away.

She climbed into John's lap, her thighs spread, and, hungry for her, he gathered her closer to suck on her breasts. He tickled a nipple with his tongue, rolling it around and sucking slightly, and Mary squirmed. She pushed his hands away, then pulled the braces down his arms and pinched his nipples in retaliation. He undid his own zip to relieve the now unbearable strain.

He whimpered when she pulled away again, but this time she was only rising onto her knees, then slowly and deliberately to her feet, bracing herself against the wall behind him. Catching on, he cradled her hips as she bent her knees to sit on his face.

John loved eating his wife. He cupped her vulva in his mouth, squeezed her ass and sucked on her lips. When he started stroking her clitoris with his tongue, she began making the mewling sounds of an impending orgasm. After she came, John backed off only a little to let her recover, then started again in earnest. She was almost there a second time when he felt a hand on his erection.

"You tease," Mary started, breathless, as he pulled away, but John was too focused on the man from the stairwell, now between his legs. Topaz coloured eyes asked for permission while strong lips hovered above his penis. "Just nod, dear," Mary said with another wink from above him, "and get back to work."

With a nod, John turned his face back to Mary and buried his mouth in her cunt again. The man urged John to carefully lift his hips to pull down the leather trousers, then licked his shaft from base to tip, making John groan and Mary grab his hair in response. The three of them began moving in tandem; the man's hot mouth now sucking on John's nuts while he was stroking, John's mouth flicking Mary's clit, and Mary rocking against his mouth and cursing. Her moans joined the symphony surrounding them when she loudly came again.

The other man backed away while John carefully lowered Mary onto his lap. She licked the juices off his chin before climbing off and turning around. The man came forward hesitantly, but Mary pulled him the rest of the way and they kissed. John moved to the edge of the couch, laying back on his forearms, while the man gently coaxed Mary backwards to straddle John's lap. She reached between her legs to grab him and, since he was already rock hard, was able to easily take him into her wetness. John only needed a couple of thrusts to find the right angle and rhythm. Mary leaned back further, arching her back and pushing her breasts to the sky, and started moving her hips in a circular motion. He leaned forward to bite Mary's exposed neck.

Large hands crept up John's thighs, followed by a tongue on his cock. He could feel the man, kneeling again, squeezing John's thighs, rapidly tonguing the both of them, licking as he pushed into Mary, faster now. He brought up a hand to pinch one of her nipples as she started pushing herself harder on his cock, and into the other man's mouth. She came hard, shuddering in his arms and grasping him hard with her cunt.

John pulled out before he could spill himself inside her, and pushed against the length of her, fucking her still-pulsing lips. The man grabbed the head, licking him as he pushed in and out. He swirled his tongue around the tip, gripping harder as Mary took over their movements, John no longer in control and falling back completely. She must've heard him getting closer, because she stopped and grabbed the man's hair, urging him to suck him off fully. With a cry, John came into the man's mouth, his beautiful lips on him the whole time, and his tongue licking him clean when he was done.

Coming back to Earth, John sat up. Mary and the other man had positioned themselves on their knees in front of him, his hands squeezing her ass, and one of her hands in his long, thick hair. She whispered in his ear while her other hand worked fast between his legs. He kissed her hard when he came apart in her fist, pulling her close with a squeeze.

An hour later, they were driving home in silence. Unsure of himself, John brushed Mary's right hand with his left, and felt immense relief when he felt her fingers entwine with his. He let out a laughing sigh.

"I wish I knew what you were whispering to him, at the end."

He heard more than saw Mary shift, then felt her words on his ear. The car swerved and Mary sat back again, smiling like the cat who got the cream.

John sped home.


End file.
